


Live, Die and Repeat

by pandas



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Death, Violence, an all round shit story, backstabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandas/pseuds/pandas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Zayn starts to feel the familiar relaxation of his muscles, the falling but not rising of his chest and the slow, almost not existent beating of his heart. He takes his final breath of this life and prepares for the next, where and as whoever that might be. He’ll still be him, of course just a different last name and story to learn. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(or that story where Zayn can die and come back to life as many times as he wants and Liam is Niall's brother and not that nice. Based on the book Revived by Cat Partick, which i didn't actually finish.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live, Die and Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> this is shit. compete shit. run far away. 11 pages of why did i do that

He lies on the floor of the cafeteria surrounded by panicking students, teachers and cooks.  It’s not every day some kid has an allergic reaction to whatever they use to make those foul burgers and passes out.

His throat is closing more with every breath, it should hurt more than it does, and he know that from experience. This is only what? The tenth time he’s died? No, it’s the eleventh. He guess he’s  just used to the feeling by now. But you may be wondering; how can someone die eleven times? Well just ask the government and the scientists that work for them.

“Zayn, can you hear me?” He hears a teacher ask. _Yes, I can hear you_ he thinks _, but it’s a little hard to speak when your throat is smaller than a pea_. It reminds him of when he was six and chocked on a pea and died for the fourth time. He was lucky Jack got there on time; he was almost dead for good.

Zayn starts to feel the familiar relaxation of his muscles, the falling but not rising of his chest and the slow, almost not existent beating of his heart. He takes his final breath of this life and prepares for the next, where and as whoever that might be. He’ll still be him, of course just a different last name and story to learn.

Then it happens, his heart stops and he counts down the seconds he has until he passes out from lack of oxygen to his brain, while he waits for Jack to arrive. He looks around at all the horrified faces, catching the attention of one in particular. A boy, who he shared most of his classes with, Harry, he think his name was. Yes, Harry Styles. He is a nice lad, they’d talked on a few occasions, and they’d have probably ended up being friends if well, you know, he wasn’t about to die…again.

The boy stares, deep into his brown eyes, his green ones let a single tear fall, crying for loss of a life. _Poor boy, he looks too innocent to have to see death so close_. Watching a fellow classmate meet their fate is something no eighteen year old should go through.

He continue to stare deep into the boys eyes as his roll back into his head; the world fades to black just as he hears Jack yell to the students and teachers hovering over his lifeless body; “Out of the way, I’m a paramedic!”

 

+

 

I stare out the window of our Jeep, watching the cleanup crew head inside my old house, making sure we left no evidence behind of the old life I used to live. I place my headphones in my ears to block out the sounds of Pauls rant about how it was a close call and how I almost didn’t make it because I honestly can’t be bothered listening to it right now, I know I made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have eaten the burger without asking what was in it, but I was distracted, albeit by a boy with an extremely nice ass, but still distracted none the less.

“Zayn, are you even listening to me?” Paul says snapping me out of my day dream about the unnamed boys behind.

“No, sorry I wasn’t. What did you say?” I ask taking my headphones out my ears so I can hear him properly.

He sighs a deep sigh and looks at me from the front seat. “I said; the next town we’re going to is Wolverhampton it’s not far from here maybe only a day’s journey. Your new name will be Zayn Williams, don’t forget it. When we get to a town a few miles over your going to need to change your appearance, since you haven’t done that in a few years so it needs to be done, nothing too big or that would take too long alright?” I nod and he carries on. “I didn’t get chance to do a double check of the house before the crew got here so I hope you didn’t forget anything and if you did well,” He points out the window at the rubbish truck crunching up old bits of furniture and I get the message.

We sit in the car and wait for one of the crew members to give us a thumbs up as to say; “You can go away now.”

I return to staring out the window and pull the blanket I placed next to be in the back seat over my body and try to get some sleep.

 

+

 

I’m woken up by the sound of Paul’s voice calling my name. I sit up and rub my eyes and take in my surrounding as Paul hands me some bills and shoos me out the car and over to the mall we are parked in front of. Every three years or after I die – whichever comes first – I need to change how I look, to stop people I may have known in a previous life from recognising me. I’m not fond of it, to tell you the truth, but it’s one of the rules of program and if I don’t follow them, God won’t be happy.

No, not God as in the big dude who created the Earth in seven days and all that stuff in the Bible but the leader of the project. As he is in charge of bring people back to life he was given the nickname; God, I don’t like the name myself,  I feel it gives him too much power, but no one knows his real name so we all just call him, God.

I walk through the mall looking at posters and mannequins in the window trying to draw inspiration from them as too what to do to change my look. Suddenly the idea hits me and I rush into the closest salon. Paul won’t like it, he’ll say it’ll attract too much attention, but I think it’ll attract just enough. So I do it, I get a light brown streak put into the front of my black quiff.

 

+

 

As we pull up in front of the old looking house, I gather my stuff and climb out of the car letting Paul do the heavy lifting of the lab equipment and head up the stairs to pick which room to be mine. As I feel in a generous mood I let Paul take the largest room and take the second largest which, lucky, is on the other side of the house.

After Paul drops of all of the boxes full of furniture in my room and I’ve finished the tiring job of having to put it all together by myself, I head down to the basement to see if Paul has finished putting together his lab. Straight away, like always, I’m instantly blinded by the intense bright white lights that cover the ceiling reflecting of the insane amount of metallic surfaces.

“Hey, what are you still doing up? You have your first day at the new high school tomorrow.” He says when he sees me. I know his cover is my fake dad, but sometimes I think he forgets the whole _fake_ part of it. Never the less, I do as he says and go get some sleep in preparation for a very boring day.

 

+

 

As I walk through the halls of Wolverhampton Senior High School with Paul behind me I can’t help but feel hatred for all the people that pass me by. Hatred because they can have friends and live normal lives. It’s not like I’m banned from having friends or anything, I just don’t make friends easy, I hate the feeling I get after I die of knowing that they will be grieving and upset for a long time, as I know the feeling myself.

When I was two, back when I had my original name; Zayn Malik, my parents took me on my first holiday, I remember it fondly, the water parks, the days spent by the pool and the friends I’d made in the kids club during the day, it was amazing, until the plane ride home. There was a problem with the plane, it used too much fuel or something like that and we crashed. Over a hundred people were on that plane, only twenty five survived, thirteen kids and twelve adults, and those people were the ones put into the project. I was the unlucky one of the twenty five, I was the only one who didn’t have my parents survive, and the others all had at least one.

I guess in some ways it’s hard for the others, having to lie to the rest of their families, make them believe they’re dead as to not jeopardise the project. I never had to do that, my parents were my only family.

That’s where Paul comes in, he’s one of God’s most trusted workers, he was given him the role of looking after me right from the start and I’ve grown quite close to him since then, he is almost like my real father and he acts like he is sometimes, which can get on my nerves.

We take a seat in front of the desk in the head masters office after the kind lady at reception tells us to go in.

The head master is an old man, with grey hair and thick glasses perched on the tip of his nose, I can’t help but feel intimidated by the fancy suit and tie he wears, which if I may say so, does nothing for his figure and makes him look the size of a house. He gives me a warm smile, which I return instantly and extends his hand for Paul to shake.

After pleasantries have been exchanged we get down to business and talk about my grades, which classes I’ll be in and the rules of the school. Once we’ve finished I stand up with Paul and leave the office, shaking hands with the head master quickly before saying goodbye to Paul and starting the search for my locker.

Once I’ve located my locker and dumped my stuff in aimlessly, I finally notice the blonde haired boy at a locker to my right. I peer around the door to get a better look at his low slung jeans, purple _Jack Wills_ Jumper and green Hulk snap-back. He’s cute I’ll admit that, just not my type.

“Hi.” He says once he notices me looking at him, “Are you new?”

“Erm…yeah, I just moved here from Bradford actually.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’m Niall Horan by the way.” He raises his hand for a handshake. Does this kid want to be my friends? I don’t get that much, most people stay away from me and I stay away from them. But something’s different about this boy, it might be his cute Irish accent, his braced teeth or the brown roots showing through his obviously dyed hair, but something makes me reach for his hand and give him a friendly smile.

“I’m Zayn, Zayn Williams.”

“Well, Zayn, Zayn Williams, it’s nice to meet you. Do you need any help finding you class?”

“No, I’m good actually I saw it on my way to my locker, but thanks anyway.” I say and walk off towards room E14, English, lucky my favourite subject.

I walk into the class room to be greeted by a young female teacher with overly perky breasts called Miss Willingham and am directed to a seat at the back of the class next to the window. I reach into the book bag I brought with me and take out the latest book I’m reading, some tragic love story about a shipwrecked couple that find themselves on different island only a hundred metres away from each other but they can’t get to the others island as neither can swim and the water is filled with sharks so they shout at each other until their voices and they’re left to just sit and watch each other die. Depressing I know, but still a good book. Suddenly I’m brought out of my thoughts of how much better with story would be if the couple was made up of two guys, I mean come on how many lovey-dovey books about straight couples do you get. Mix it up a little why don’t you? When a boy walks into the classroom. Now, this is no ordinary boy, this boy is possibly the sexiest, most ruggedly handsome boy to ever walk the planet. I have to stop myself from staring at his muscular torso, buzz cut hair and beautiful chocolate brown eyes which, don’t ask me why because I don’t for the life of my know why, remind me of those of a puppy, before I start to drool.

He notices me staring and gives a quick wave and smile before taking his seat at the front of the class. This is going to be a very long lesson.

 

+

 

At lunch I return to my locker to find the boy from this morning standing waiting. As I walk closer he waves at me and begins to walk towards me to meet me in the middle.

“So, I was thinking as your new and you probably don’t know anyone here, if you wanted to have lunch with me. We could go of campus if you wanted.” He says giving me a hope-filled look. Doesn’t he have other friends to hang out with, I mean he seems nice enough I thought people would be begging him to be their friends, but apparently not.

“Yeah, sure that’s nice of you.” I say as I close my locker and walk with him to his car in the student parking lot.

 

+

 

“So, Zayn tell me about yourself.” Niall says, mouth half full of chicken, as we sit across from each other in Nando’s.

“Not much to tell really, I’m just your normal kid I guess.” I answer with a shrug. I glance up at the clock above Niall’s head and sigh when I realise we have to head back to school in ten minutes, I’ve really like hanging out with Niall, he really is a nice kid I don’t get why he doesn’t have many friends. I don’t have to wait long before I find out why though, a minute later Niall excuses himself to use the rest room and from our table which is quite close to the bathroom door, I can hear the sounds of someone ranching into the toilet. Great, I just had to pick the bulimic kid to be friends with didn’t I, the one which after I die – which mostly likely will be very soon as I’m a bit of a klutz – will head into a downwards spiral of depression and most likely kill himself. I hate these situations, I’ve had them a couple times before, hearing of how an old friend from a previous life committed suicide because they couldn’t deal with the loss.

I know I should ask him about it when he gets back, but he’ll just deny it was him or get mad me for asking, so I decided against it and try to enjoy the rest of lunch with him.

 

+

 

I sit on my bed, back rested against the headboard, laptop on resting on my knees, after a busy first day and log on to my _Skype_ account. Straight away a message pops up from Louis.

**L: Hey, how was the first day?**

**Z: Good. Made a friend. School got much better?**

**L: Really? That must be a first for you. Not really, still get beat up most days, mum’s starting to worry.**

**Z: Fuck you. That sucks, hope it gets better.**

**L: Aw, it’s okay you know I love ya. And thanks. I got to go now, mum needs help with the shopping.**

**Z: Love ya too. Talk to you later.**

I miss Louis, we were both on the plane when it crashed so we became friends pretty fast since we understood each other and what we were going through. He lost his dad and younger sister I lost both my parents, he was older than me though, im nineteen now and he’s twenty, almost twenty one. I feel bad for him though, he’s off at university at the moment, but he has to go to one close to his parents so they can keep watch on him. He gets bullied a lot by his peers since he came out a few months ago. That’s another thing we share, we’re both gay, but I chose to keep that part of me hidden from people, expect Paul and Louis of course.

I log off and make a start on my homework. That’s right, first day and I already have homework.

 

+

 

The rest of the week goes by well, I manage to learn the name of the cute guy in my English class, Liam by the way, and Niall invited me over to his house this weekend and I’m managing to keep but with my homework as well so, so far , so good.

On Saturday I dress in low hanging, dark jeans and my red and black varsity jacket and get Paul to drop me off at Niall’s house.

Before I can even open the door of the car, Niall is outside the car, mouth full of cookies and greeting Paul.

“Hi, Mr Williams, I’m Niall it’s nice to meet you.” He says politely shaking Paul’s hand.

“Please, Niall, call me Paul, Mr Williams makes me sound so old.” Blood hell, Paul can be a charmer when he wants to be. Before Paul has a chance to say anymore I suggest to Niall we go inside and wave goodbye to Paul.

Niall leads me into the house and up the stairs to his room, the first thing I notice is the guitar in the corner and the numerous Justin Bieber posters placed on the walls around the room.

“Justin Bieber fan are we?” I ask, chuckling when I see a pink blush cover he pale skin.

“Erm…Yeah I guess, he can sing and he’s kinda hot.” He slaps a hand over his mouth looking at me wide eyed at the sudden realisation of what he said. “No, I didn’t mean it like that it’s just, you know.”

“It’s alright mate. Justin is quite hot.” I say sitting down on the desk chair across from where Niall is now sitting on his bed.

“Wait, does that mean…Are you gay too?” I can’t help but laugh at how blunt he is, I nod my head in response and he joins me in the laugh. “So, any guy at school got your fancy?” he presses once we’ve calm down a bit.

“Well,” I start, “There is one guy, in my English class, who is extremely fit, his names Liam something.”

“Liam?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Maybe, Liam is a common name after all.” He shrugs. “Want anything to drink?” He asks jumping of the bed and heading towards the door chuckling under his breath. What so funny?

“No, im good thanks.” I say as he leaves to get himself a drink, and most likely, more cookies.

Almost as soon as Niall’s left I feel eyes staring into the back of my head,  I turn around quickly to see Liam, from English – and as I recently found out History and Gym - , standing in the door way. Why is he here? Is he a family friend or did he get lost and end up in the wrong house or something?

“Hey, you’re Zayn right? I think we have a couple classes together. I’m Liam.” He says entering the room to shake my hand. What is it with this town and hand shaking?

“Yeah, that’s me.” I say and smile weakly. I glad I’m sitting down because if I wasn’t being this close to him would have made me weak at the knees.

“Oh, Zayn, I’ve see you’ve met my step-brother Liam.” Niall says as he enters the room, red bull in hand, sending me a quick wink. Sneaky Bastard.

“Oh, hey, Niall, I was thinking about going to see a movie. You and Zayn want to come?” Liam asks, while I just there stunned to have such a beautiful create so close to me.

“Sure, we’d love to.” Niall answers for us.

 

+

 

The movie was pretty uneventful, if you don’t count me and Liam reaching into the tub of popcorn at the same time and our hands brushing and me almost squealing like a teenage girl and Niall having to leave twice to ‘use the bathroom’ – which I learnt by now to mean; throw his guts up.

 

 

+

 

Two months pass by without much happening, just hanging out with Niall and Liam at school and on the weekend going to watch a movie or get something to eat at Nandos. I was living a pretty much normal life for someone in my circumstances.

But, luck was never on my side.

One day, Liam, Niall and I were sitting in the food court, Niall stuffing his face full of fries, when something – or should I was someone – caught my eyes. I looked to my right to find myself staring into a pair of intense green eyes. They felt so familiar, it took me a second to realise where I’d seen them before, but once I had, I ran like hell.

 

+

 

The second I got home I told Paul, who hacked Harry’s email to find out why he was here. Apparently some sort of family reunion and he was leaving Sunday night.

Now it was Monday and I was dreading having to face Niall and Liam and explain why I suddenly ran off. An unfortunately up first I had English.

As soon as I walked into the class room I looked around in search of the puppy eyed boy, but to my luck – finally – he wasn’t there, yet.

Or as it turns out at all.

At lunch I waited by my locker for Niall but he never shows. That’s when I start to panic.

I walk to the school office and ask the lady behind the desk if she could check the school system and see if they were even at school. As it turns out, no, no they were not at school. Are they that mad at me for running of that they skip school to avoid me?

I carry on the rest of the day as normal and the second the final bell rings, I jump out my seat and start the walk to Niall and Liam’s house.

When Maura – Niall’s mum – answers the door I give a friendly smile, and instead of returning it like she normal would do, she breaks down crying.

“Mrs Horan, what’s wrong?” I ask, even though it’s probably just menopause or something.

“It’s Niall, dear, he’s in the hospital.” She says through her tears. Shit, not menopause then.

 

+

 

The drive to the hospital was only about ten minutes but with Niall’s mum crying in the seat next to me, me trying to drive her car carefully and my mind teasing me with the possibility of Niall’s condition it seemed like it took hours.

Once in the hospital Maura leads me straight to Niall’s room…in the cancer ward? No, Niall can’t have cancer, that’s not fair, anything else and he could have been taken on board of the project, they could have fixed him, but not cancer. The projects treatment doesn’t work with cancer and now I hate that fact more than ever.

I walk into Niall’s room just in time to see the white hospital bedding being pulled over his sweet and innocent face, the heart monitor being switched off and the doctor calling time of death.

I look around the room for Liam, but he’s not there. He didn’t have to see his step-brother and best friend dead. Luck Bastard.

And then it hits me.

Niall’s dead.

+

 

I push through the front door to be met with Paul standing in the hallway waiting for me, a sad look on his face.

“Zayn, something’s happened. We need to talk.” He starts but I interrupt him.

“I know some things happened! Niall died today is what happened! He died, of cancer, and I never got to say goodbye!” I scream at him. It’s not his fault, I know that, but how do you deal with something like this? I should know how to deal with death by now and I do, I can deal with my death just not others. Is this what those friends I left behind felt like? The ones who ended it all? If it is, I get it now, I understand why.

“What? No, I, I was talking about something else. Niall died?”

“Yes, Paul, Niall died and it’s all my fault! If I’d told someone that he would throw up after every meal, they would have taken him to a doctor and caught it! He wouldn’t have died today because of me!”

I slump down against the door and Paul sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and holding me while I cried, cried for the first time since I was two, when they told me my parents died. He held me for an hour until I calm down and couldn’t cry any more.

“Zayn, I know this is horrible timing but something happened today. God stepped down as head of the project over the weekend, and a new guy took over, could only be around your age, he did research on all the plane crash families and found out about Harry seeing you . Apparently he was planning on going to the police so the new guy, he, well, he killed him.”

I look at Paul through the new tears starting to fall from my eyes. Another person dead because of me? Great, could this get any worse. Apparently, yes, it could.

“That’s not all, though. The new guy says that you and the other plane crash survivors have been around too long, that people are starting to recognise you and the project is very close to being discovered. So, he said he was getting new people to test the treatment on and was _terminating_ the old ones. Louis and his family were first to go.”

“Please tell me this is some sick joke?” I ask even though I know it’s not.

He doesn’t get to answer me though because suddenly the back door crashes open and two muscular security guards drag Paul off me, while he thrashes around trying to loosen their grip, and another two hold me down.

“Hello,  Zayn.” I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I stop struggling against the men holding me and to turn my head to the left my eyes wonder the room until they meet a pair of chocolate brown one, which for some reason, still remind me of one’s of a puppy dog. “Just thought I’d let you know who was in charge of the project now; me.”

I shake my head and scream at him to stop, not let it end this way, but he just gives one of guards a curt nod before I feel a needle pick the skin of my neck.

All at once I feel my heart stop, my lungs give way and my throat close. I feel life slip away from me and know that this time I won’t wake up with a new town to go to, a new name to remember and a new life to live. This was the last life I’ll live.

As the world around me fades to black I hear one last scream from Paul, trying to make them stop.

“I’m sorry, Zayn.” I hear Liam whisper to me before it happens, before I die for the twelfth and final time.


End file.
